For most of my life I’ve suffered this weird recurring altered state of consciousness. Whenever it happens, I have extremely limited use of my muscles, my senses are dulled, and my salivary glands go berserk. I think my husband has it too—even worse than I: he can’t breathe, and his mouth makes all sorts of noises.
It’s chronic, but I’ve never had it diagnosed—because, strange as it seems, after these spells I feel better than beforehand: my memory clears, I have more energy, I’m not as clumsy, and I can drive better; even my mood improves—especially since I discovered a drug that helps the situation.
Whenever I’ve tried to overcome this strange phenomenon, I tend to become ill—so I just live with it. I totally empathize with those of you with migraines or fibromyalgia; it’s tough living with a disorder like this!
Thankfully, last night I had some help overcoming my problem. The phenomenon overtook me at 11. (These last few years it seems to do that every single day, and I can’t bring myself out of it until 5 the next morning!) But this time my family took pity on me: I was cured after one hour of it by a disturbance: somebody else was succumbed to the same dilemma, and walked by to find a place of refuge. And again, at 2, another! Then, at 3 AM, Hubby overcame his disorder; it was a miracle! By 4, he was leaving to go fishing! At 5, he called me for some info, which relieved my symptoms for the fifth time. At 6, my bladder helped me out, and at 7 I received my usual assistance by the old lady shuffling by to get her bran and prunes.
If it weren’t for these people, I think this physical malady could often steal 8 hours of my time without interruption! I suppose I should go have it looked at.